


Red Tape

by cupcakekiller12



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, F/M, Grim Reapers, M/M, More Youtubers To Come, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 09:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15458697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupcakekiller12/pseuds/cupcakekiller12
Summary: A strange case of seemingly unconnected murders end up in the curious hands of Shane and his reluctant Apprentice, Ryan. Together they dive into the world of supernatural crime, desperately trying to find their killer before more bodies start piling up.





	Red Tape

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome
> 
> I was bored, had writers block, and was at a computer.
> 
> So I made this.
> 
> Hope you like it.
> 
> **WARNING**  
> There may be triggers in this story for some people.  
> Be aware, but don’t be surprised.  
> **End**
> 
> Be sure to read the ending note for extra info.

Ryan was bored.

But to be fair that was what happened after several hundred thousand years in Hell. He was trained to torture souls, but eventually the screams, cries, and pleads for mercy just got old. There was nothing left to enjoy here, just the steaming hot lava pits he threw people into and watched them burn. That sounds cruel, he acknowledged, but it wasn’t like those people didn’t deserve it. It took many horrible things for souls to end up here — _with him._ So you shouldn’t feel too bad, unless you know you are going to end up here with him, in that case don’t feel bad at all — be afraid.

He wondered what it was like in Heaven from time to time though, but there wasn’t ever a clear picture of it. Nobody here was much for talking about that supposed ‘paradise’, and for the time being Ryan couldn’t blame them either. Heaven was an enigma that no one could ever figure out. _Was it real?_ Ryan didn’t know. _Could I ever get there?_ Ryan didn’t even want to try. _Do you think they hate us?_ Ryan didn’t care. So what if there was an empire in the clouds that acted like an estranged uncle who sent get well cards on birthdays; how was it his problem? A rule down here was to never get your hopes up, because inevitably they were going to be crushed.

At least he wasn’t a Grim Reaper though, as Lucius always like to remind him.

“You have a home. A job. A plain of existence you can stay at,” Lucius would say, “You may not always like said home, job, and plain of existence, but it is more than I will ever have.” Lucius, that damn Reaper always making things about himself, but what a made it worse was that he was right. He had things some being would never be able to seize again, but that didn’t make him happy. A part of him will always want to be free, even if this was where it was meant to be.

-

“You look gloomy,” Lucius remarked as he walked past the demon, papers crumbled in one hand. He must be delivering something or meeting with someone, “What happened?” Ryan didn’t reply. “Having one of those days again?” Ryan shrugged and continued to walk with the Reaper, “Just because I can read your mind doesn’t mean I necessarily want to read your mind.” Lucius and Ryan both knew that he couldn’t do it. The demon had more wards on his head than Lucius had on his house, but it got the point across.

“I’m bored.” Ryan admitted.

“I can imagine so.” Lucius replied, “Hell is a prison, not a resort.”

“If it is a prison, can I not just break out?” Sighed Ryan, “Hell would not miss a single demon.”

“They have done more for less.” Lucius pointed out, “But if you were really itching to get out, you could probably just ask a Reaper to claim you as his Apprentice.” That was supposed to be a joke, and Ryan knew it, but some twisted part of his  mind insisted to him that it would be worth it, that anything — _anything_ would be better than this. Lucius had told him about the pros and cons of being a Grim Reaper, most of those things being the latter. The most relayed one being the fact that he would be switching one prison for another. Lucius didn’t know though, how suffocating this world was to Ryan. He used to love it here, doing his job, but the magic went away after the War. So many of his friends died here and many more were sent to him, but not as guests, as souls meant to be punished. He wanted _out_ . He _needed_ out. He needed to know what the sun felt like. He wanted a sky, a blue one with white fluffy clouds, and green grass beneath his toes. He was desperate to see a world beyond this one. Ryan _wanted_ a world beyond this one, even if it meant it  he wouldn’t have one to be come back to anymore, “Trust me,” Lucius assured, “Freedom is highly overpriced.”

“I guess,” Ryan lied, if Lucius could tell he didn’t bother pointing it. The Reaper was a great liar. Maybe that was the reason why everyone hated him. He knew exactly what to say and when to say it, and it wasn’t ever the lie that was the worst part of his behavior; it was the fact that everyone believed it in the first place. “Who are you seeing today?”

“Tonight,” corrected Lucius, “a new Representative got elected. I figured would pop in and say hello.”

“Hello?” Ryan questioned, “I thought you had a job to do...like perhaps getting souls for us?”

“Eh, later,” Lucius shrugged, “I will be fine as long as the families do not cremate the bodies.” They stopped at the Representative’s door; it was large, gaudy, and overly ornate. Jewels lined the edges,  as an intricate golden crown molding surrounded the door. Silver lines were laced in between the diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and other precious stones in a complicated pattern that maybe was supposed to resemble a crown or a throne of some sort, but nobody could ever be for sure. She claimed she was going to change it when she had the chance, but time off was a rarity for a Representative. “I will talk to you later. Till the next time, Ryan.”

Ryan nodded, “Till the next time,” As soon as Lucius went into the office and the door closed, a thought popped into the demon’s head. _What if I did do it?_ _What if I asked a Reaper to make me their Apprentice?_ It wouldn’t be hard. There was always a Grim Reaper in need of an Apprentice. Most of the time they chose humans though, considering they were easy to break, liked to have rules, and were mostly easy to teach. Demons knew what they were doing though; they already had magic and a basic knowledge of how the Courts work. So it would be even more difficult to guide them, or at least that was what Lucius had heard from other Reapers. So in all likelihood he was going to be stuck here until he was erased from existence or given a second chance by the big man upstairs. One was just as unlikely as the other, and if he was being honest, he didn’t want to be a human, or a Fae, or an angel, or an Death Court official of any kind. He wanted to be free. Of what? He didn’t quite know yet, but something was eating him alive.

Ryan took his time walking back to his station. If there was one nice thing about living in Hell, it would be the view from the Representative’s mansion, so it would have been a shame if he did not stop to take in the sights of the Hellfire Blossoms that were just barely in season. He admired their petals glowing in the red darkness of the underground prison. The trunk was as dark of coal, and often times bled a gold nectar in between the crevices of the bark. It tasted like honey, but Ryan wouldn’t know that, all he knew was that it tasted sweet, thick, and was nice on the toast. Lucius always commented on how _Ryan_ was the one that needed to go out more, but _he_ was the one who could actually keep track of the year. So what did it matter that he didn’t know what the actually word for honey or sap was? It wasn’t like he would ever use it in his line of work. Although, it would be interesting to see someone drown in that substance...if he could ever get enough of the viscous liquid to do it with.

“Well aren’t you just a good little demon?” Chuckled a voice from behind the tree, “Tell me, are all demons this sadistic or is just you?” Ryan sighed as he pushed himself off the trunk of Hellfire blossom; he knew exactly who was talking to and him and he was currently not the mood to play games and answer riddles. Shane. Whatever he was here for, Ryan certainly did not want to hear about it. That little twisted, cynical, immature, douchebag —that if Ryan didn’t know any better, would have thought that he was a originally a demon before becoming a Grim Reaper. But no, that unbearable man used to be a human, a professor actually (if you could call it that) at a college a thousand or so years ago. He preferred history, like most Reapers did, mainly because they were apart of it. Such narcissists, the lot of them, and Shane was no acception.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Ryan half groaned. He tired to quicken his pace, but it was no use with Shane’s long strides that kept him up with the demon’s speed. “The Representative is already with someone!”

“Yes,” affirmed Shane with that dopey smile on his face that Ryan always wanted to smack, “I know; Lucius is with her.” Ryan weighed his options. He could hear what Shane has to say, get embarrassed by the lack of knowledge he had about the outside world, and end up walking away even more fuming than he was now, _or_ he could just leave now and avoid the whole ordeal and be even more bored than he was before. The choice was obvious. He sat down on the edge on the floating island on which the Representative’s mansion sat on. God, he was a glutton for punishment wasn’t he? “I was dropping off a soul. An inmate was executed tonight and I had the honor to bring him here —to you!” Ryan despised the false excitement on the Reaper’s face and in his tone. He had way too much fun teasing him like this. “I’m not teasing you.” Shane assured, “The Greeter wasn’t here, so I decided to give it to the best next person.”

“The Representative,” Ryan assumed.

Shane shook his head, “No, of course not silly, she has only been in here for a few months. Probably doesn’t have even know where the restrooms are yet, let alone the torture pits.” Ryan suppressed a chuckle, pursing his lips tightening because he refused to let Shane have the upper hand. “I was going to give it to you.” In all honesty honesty that was an honor not a lot of demons got to have, mainly because even since the dawn of time demons were always thought to corrupt things, which wasn’t necessarily wrong, but neither was it true.

“That was stupid of you.” The demon pointed out, “I do not know where this soul goes.”

Shane shrugs and replied with, “Technically you don’t have to,” his smile was irritating.. Correction — everything about Shane was irritating. For Ryan it was mainly his carefree yet cynical attitude towards everything thrown at him. “You could just go back to your torture pit, hurt a couple hundred souls, and wait for them to reappear tomorrow.” Ryan hated that he made a valid point, or maybe it was just a truth Ryan had to live with. It wasn’t a challenging existence and really if the demon was being honest, he had nothing to complain about. The Representatives had done nothing to hurt him, his post had never been threatened, and for the most part Ryan was content with staying here. Forever.

But the temptation was there, to leave, to have this eventually become a distant fond memory of the past. That was _if_ he remembered his past. Lucius had told him sometimes people chose to forget, and it was it choice he had to make as well. He opted against it. He always said that forgetting was a gift only granted to the dead. It was still strange though, considering nobody — not even Amos, his mentor, knew his full background. Everyone knew what he did, but nobody why.

Would he be like that one day? A ghost, a wanderer with no past; only the present and the future to worry about. “Let’s say I go with you,” asked the demon, “what would happen?” He was going to regret that question, it was only a matter of time, like always.

“I would devour your soul in a ritual, resigning your eternal demonhood, and make you become my Apprentice. Next I would train you for a few hundred years and then you would become an official Grim Reaper to have an Apprentice and so on.” Shane already knew the question that popped into the demons head, “And yes, even though you belong to the Court of Hell, you do have a soul, my poor, miserable, clueless friend.”

“And what makes you think I would be an Apprentice for you?” The thought itself of preposterous. _An Apprenticeship? With Shane out of all the Grim Reaper he could ask?_ That was a leap in judgment, even for Shane’s standards. “Thanks for the offer but I have better things to do than—” when suddenly he couldn’t breathe. He could barely recognize what was happening to him as the feeling of misery continued. Shane was reaching for his soul, but he problem was that Ryan wasn’t exactly dead. This was the old fashioned version of taking a soul, and very archaic depending on the Reaper you were talking to. It was exhausting for the Reaper taking the soul and excruciating for the person being reaped. Ryan had heard so many stories about it but never though that it would happen to him. He especially would have never expected Shane to do it to him.

Ryan, weakened by the act of Shane’s reaping his soul, limply grimped the Grim Reaper’s shoulders and failed at an attempt to push him away. He wanted to cry. In pain, in grief, in anger, but nothing was coming out. He needed to scream, but all the demon could do was choke on the sounds lodged in his throat.

“And what makes you think I was asking for your permission?” Shane retorted. The misery continued, twisting his insides, pushing everything to its breaking point. It felt like he was dying, if they was even possible for something like him. Technically he was dying as Shane ripped him apart. He was never going to be able to come back here, and for everyone here who may or may not notice his absence, it will be like he did die. And for where he will be going, he might as well be.

—-

It had only occurred to Shane after he had completed the ritual and was catching glimpses of Ryan’s memories that the demon he knew was far more complicated than he had originally anticipated. He was created with one purpose, to hurt, torture, and maim. He had only ever let out of Hell once and that was to be cannon fodder. He watched his friends die, was forced to kill many others, and then after it was all over he had to witness the sight of his friends where he worked.

_“I thought…” Ryan started as he held his breath and collapsed in a chair next to a familiar scarlet headed Reaper. He looked tired, both of them did. This was probably after the War they always talked about. It always seemed to be the excuse and reason for anything. Shane never understood why, but he wasn’t there for any of it. His mentor made sure of that. He wasn’t supposed to ask about it when she came back. Even with his curiosity he knew by the forlorn look on her face and the various colors of blood hidden in her clothes. Was it the same way for Ryan? “I thought that it would get better.”_

_It obviously didn’t, judging by the looks of it._

_“That maybe…” he began again before cradling his head in his hands, “maybe I could just forget it happened, but…” that wasn’t the case. It seemed everything came back to haunt Ryan in the end, furthering his guilt as to what he did in order to survive the Four Courts War. Did he know that no one amongst the living blamed him, because almost everyone can say they would have done the same._

_“Every day I see them.” The former demon sighed, “Friend and foe alike.” He looks over at Lucius for comfort, “And I have to hurt them, whittle them down into nothing, rip them apart. Piece. By. Piece.” The Reaper was hesitant to help, reaching out and retreating back before eventually mustering up the courage to wrap his arm around the demon. “You should see the look on their faces when they see me.” Shane, for some odd magical reason, could feel the remorse stacking up in his chest. His eyes stung but for a reason that was not his own. “They beg for mercy and there isn’t one time I can remember not wanting to give it to them.”_

_“Shhh,” Lucius soothed as he patted the demon’s head, “It is not your fault Ryan, you have no control over which soul goes where.”_

_“But you do!” Screamed Ryan, tears ran down his face, “Why did you—” he sobbed as he gasped for air, “Why did you put them here?”_

_“There was no choice Ryan,” Lucius pointed out softly, “If I left them in purgatory they would have become monsters.”_

_Shane wanted to cry. For the first time in many years, he had to fight back the tears started to pool in his eyes._ I do not want to see this, _Shane though tot himself,_ I do not want to see this, do not  make me see this! _The Reaper tried to close his eyes, to look away but it was as if something was forcing him to. He didn’t want to witness this though, he didn’t need to know this. Ryan wouldn’t want him to know this._

_But the image continued, yet it started to change like a film cutting to another scene. In this case it was something in past, during the War. Ryan was in the Fae realm, fighting but it was obvious he wasn’t winning. He looked tired, the excessive use of magic was starting to wear on him. But it didn’t look like he was fighting alone though, there were two people with their backs to him whom were also using magic to defend themselves._

_“When are those reinforcements coming?” Ryan yelled, casting a rather hurried hex towards an indistinguishable entity rushing towards him. It dissolves as another one takes its place._

_“We are the reinforcements!” Shouted back another person that Shane did not recognize. It smaller person. She had dark skin illuminated by blue markings embedded into her skin which glowed with every spell she casted. “You simply just have to—”  The woman’s body doesn’t even hit the ground, it simply dissolves into ash and is carried through the air. Shane saw her die, and the moment right before when she knew that it was coming. That was a terrible feeling, seeing your death before you experience it. Ryan didn’t notice it though, not with all the chaos going on around him._

_“Simply just have to what?” Ryan wondered as he threw balls of flame towards his so called enemies. “Delphinium, what do we—“_

_“Delphinium is gone!” The man to his side informed, some reason the name Lance came to mind, “We have to run!” The orcish looking man gripped Ryan’s hand, pulling him a direction neither of them really knew where it would lead. The demon is slightly faster though and more nimble, easily pulling out of the orc’s grip and speeding ahead of him._

_Ryan looked confused as he turned around. “What do you mean Delphinium is—” He didn’t get to finish his question before a stray curse blew into Lance’s back, dissolving him just like Delphinium._

_Shane wanted to puke. He wanted to look away. He didn’t want to experience the horror and anguish that Ryan had felt in that exact moment._

_The demon continued into run the thick foliage, all the sounds around him blurring into loud static noise. Shane couldn’t tell how far Ryan had sprinted, but by the time he stopped there was an abandoned village in his path. The demon fell to its knees, gripped the loose dirt below him and threw it. All those feelings of sorrow and bitterness merged together into one — hatred. Ryan wanted to_ **_burn_ ** _. He thought it would make him feel better. Sure, it wouldn’t bring back Delphinium and Lance, but it would make him forget...at least for the moment anyway._

_A distorted voice called out to him, and without any consideration for whom it may be, Ryan threw a curse their way. It was deflected. The voice called out again, this time its hand touched his should in an attempt to calm him. “Are you alright?” Ryan could finally distinguish from the garbled noises he heard before. “There is a lot blood on your jacket. Is it yours or someone else’s?”_

_It belonged to his friends. His enemies. Himself. At this point, Ryan couldn’t tell which one was which._

_A hand gingerly moved his head to look at something. He saw brown skin, scarred, bruised, and bleeding, but still he could not muster the will to reply._

_“What is your name, demon?” The person asked, there is no response so they ask again in slightly more demanding tone, “What is your name?”_

_“Ryan,” the demon said, “It is Ryan...I don’t know who the blood belongs to...we have been fighting for weeks...everyone else is dead or captured.”  The voice doesn’t say anything. The person looks as though they were debating something; a part of Ryan thought it was to kill him, and another piece of him wanted them to. It wasn’t like he had much left to live for._

_It only took him a moment to realize the person beside him was putting a sleeping curse on him,“Sleep Ryan,” he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to relive this. He didn’t want to see his friends die again._ It wasn’t your fault, _Shane wanted to say,_ There was nothing you could do, _the Reaper wanted to assure,_ Nobody could have save them, _not that it would have convinced the demon. Nothing Shane could ever say or do erase any of these moments or ease the pain of them. Hell, there was nothing that he could do in order to forget them himself._

_But the bad moments were not the only thing Shane saw; there were glimpses of happiness. Most of them were before the War, with the people Shane knew were dead. They looked...peaceful. This wasn’t real though, not for Shane or Ryan. It was just a memory. All of these people, laughing, sharing drinks, and playing games were either erased from existence, or in Hell’s torture pits. Maybe that was the scariest part of this whole ordeal, the fact that Ryan was alone. So terribly alone._

_—_

Shane, not surprisingly, woke up with a slap to the face. He didn’t have to guess who it was because there was only one person who could bark orders like that and not be scared that a hex was headed his way — Lucius. The scarlet headed Reaper pulled up on his collar, “Get up, you have slept long enough.” Shane was forced on his feet before he could barely open his eyes. At first he felt fine, a little dizzy and off center, but nothing could have prepared him for the incoming magical hangover that was an apparent ‘side effect’ of his Apprenticeship ritual. Lucius appeared to already have had this knowledge and was already prepared to shadow travel him to a hotel room.

“Thanks mom—” Lucius pushed his head into into the general area of the toilet before anything could escape his throat. He couldn’t remember what he ate before the ritual, but all he could taste now was bile that was currently burning his throat and threatening to come out of his nostrils. When Shane finally got enough breath to breathe he said, “Y-you know I have fully functional bathroom at my place, right?” His stomach lurched again, making him dry heave into the porcelain bowl.

“I know.” Lucius quipped back, “It is dingy, melanoid, and most of all filthy. Have you not even bothered to clean it since the day you built it?” In all honesty, Lucius was right. Shane’s so called ‘living space’ should be renamed a disaster area. Everything in that house belonged to his mentor; from the only bed in the house to the couch that should have been replaced _decades_ ago. The bathroom wasn’t even the worst of it, Shane had a room he refused to ever go in. Lucius couldn’t tell if he was afraid of it or if it was because he didn’t feel like it. Lucius knew whom the room belonged to before Shane had locked it down. Maybe it was his scar, even if he never participated in the War. The green eyed Reaper always tried to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. Sara was at at war with herself, and when she lost she took everyone else with her. Shane was just one of many casualties

“I didn’t build it.” Shane replied as he laid down on the cold tile floor. It felt nice against his feverish skin. “Sara did...many many centuries ago.” The sly tone faded away, along with the careless attitude he acted like he had. “It was a gift.” _An unwanted gift._ Shane didn’t want the house. He didn’t care that the paint on the walls peeling away. He didn’t give a damn about the wards wearing off. He was unattached to the biological WMD growing in his shower. He was indifferent to how the floors creaked with the every step. Shane didn’t care about the house. He just wanted Sara back. Lucius may have had a tough relationship with his mentor, Amos, but at least he didn’t have to home and find his body hanging from the ceiling. He didn’t have to bury the burn the body and scatter the ashes _alone_ . He didn’t have to learn magic _by himself._ He didn’t have to go back to _that house_ and have constant reminders that _you weren’t good enough_ and that _you couldn’t save her from herself._ People said it was just survivors guilt, but what did Shane survive exactly? Nobody could give him an answer.

“Ryan is fine.” Lucius said absentmindedly, changing the subject as he against the wall beside Shane. _He should be angry._ Shane though for a moment, _The Lucius I know would be furious._ “I was angry for a little bit.” The elder Reaper informed like he wasn’t reading Shane’s mind from te getgo. “But I knew just as well as you did that Ryan was not happy where he was.” Lucius suddenly had a glass in his hand, filled with a dark liquid, hopefully it was not a strong liquor —there was only enough space for one hungover person in this bathroom. “I just did not have the courage to do what you did. To bite the bullet, as the humans say.” He took a sip, cringed a little from the taste and looked at him. “I just want to say that he will hate you for a little while, but that hatred is not directed at you — it is at what you did and what you are going to have to do in order to keep him safe.”

“I won’t be like Amos, Lucius.” Shane heaved, closing his eyes to shield them from the bright fluorescent lighting.

“I am not saying you will be.” Lucius agreed, “But there will be times when you will have to make difficult choices as to what kind of mentor you want to be versus what you to be, except you will not be just making them just for yourself. Ryan needs a teacher, not a friend.”

“Why can’t I be both?” Shane wondered.

Lucius shrugs, “Because it can get you both killed.”

Shane gives Lucius a wild smile, “And what’s so bad about that?”

**Author's Note:**

> FUN FACT:  
> Lucius is actually an OC from one of my stories on Wattpad. I actually started writing this story because I was bored in my library aid class and was blocked on a chapter over there.
> 
> If you are interested in reading this source material, my username is the same as it is here: cupcakekiller12.
> 
> Leave comments on if you want more.
> 
> Leave a comment on what youtuber you want in the next chapter.
> 
> See you guys later!


End file.
